


Scars

by RZKing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZKing/pseuds/RZKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Regina have a night in, which leads to stories about their scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goodknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodknight/gifts).



            The rain beat down against Regina Mills’ living room window.  The soft thundering on the roof amplified the warmth in the room, and as the taste of shiraz lingered on her tongue, she could have melted into the side of the figure beside her on the sofa.

 

            Earlier that day, she had promised Emma Swan that she would take her out for dinner, but the increasing sheets of rain that fell from the evening sky weakened both parties’ will to be outside any longer than they had to.  With Henry on an overnight class trip, Emma decided to bring a movie over, and Regina ordered Thai delivery.

 

            As much as Emma loved modern action movies, Regina didn’t quite seem like the type, so she opted on a different genre: a film noir mystery.

 

            “I’m confused,” Regina broke the silence after Emma hit ‘play’, with a note of concern in her voice.  “Where’s the colour?  Is it broken?”

 

            Emma stifled a laugh, but the corners of her mouth and the way she bit her lower lip betrayed her.

 

            “What?” Regina pressed, averting her eyes from Emma’s face. _Did I say something strange?_

 

            “Oh, nothing, nothing,” Emma shook her head, “it’s just that older movies in our world didn’t have colour.”  She assumed that Regina had studied the early 20th century at some point, but perhaps she only researched the few years before she created the Curse.

 

            Regina narrowed her eyes, her jaw slackening beneath her cheeks.  “Your world didn’t always have colour?  How did _that_ happen?”

 

            “No, the world did… I didn’t explain that very well…” Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek as she compiled her words in her mind.  “The technology we used to capture footage used to not be able to show colours, so everything would show up in black and white on film.”  She offered a relaxed smile.

 

            “Okay…” Regina replied cautiously, looking back at the TV screen.   _It’s old.  That would also explain the characters’ clothing..._

 

            And so they sat, mostly in silence, side by side.  Regina tried to follow the plot, but her attention kept drifting to the scene in her own living room.  The monochrome on her TV screen somehow made the colours in the room more vibrant: the gold in Emma’s hair shone in the dim yellow lamp light.  The reds and purples in the mahogany coffee table seemed to swim within the wood’s grain, and even the faint shadows Emma’s jaw cast on her neck looked alive.

 

            The tips of Regina’s olive fingers pressed gently into the cream leather of her sofa; she watched pools of shadows form in the depressions with fascination.  It came to her attention how close Emma’s side was to her own arm.  Had Regina been any closer, she could imagine being able to feel the fine hairs on her bicep touch the wool on Emma’s pale grey sweater.

 

            Should she close the small gap?  She scanned the woman to her left, from the length of her arm that was casually resting on top of the sofa’s frame behind Regina’s neck, to her slightly upturned head, and down her relaxed torso.  They had been dating for two months, if she objected, Regina could just pull away…

 

            She decided to snake her left arm through the small gap between the sofa and the middle of Emma’s back, and pull herself closer, until their sides touched.

 

            Emma turned her head, making eye contact with Regina, then dropped her chin in a low kind of nod, and lowered her arm to drape around Regina’s shoulders.

 

            Everything was so warm, from the palm of Emma’s hand against her arm, to the glow of the lamp in the corner.  Regina could happily fall asleep, right here…

 

            But she mustn’t, that would make her a bad hostess.  She fought off the comfort of the room by turning her eyes back to the black and white world on screen… only to find that the movie was in its final scene.  Regina squinted in disbelief, then turned to Emma, to find the other was now looking at her expectantly.

 

            “So… what did you think?” Emma started awkwardly.

 

            “Well…” Regina trailed off.

 

            “You weren’t paying attention,” Emma finished, making more of a statement than a question.

 

            “I tried to!  The black and white just threw me off.”  That was somewhat true.

 

            Emma lowered her eyes.  “Sorry I picked something you didn’t like―”

 

            “I never said that!” Regina interjected.  “It’s just that…”

 

            “‘It’s just’ what?” Emma arched an eyebrow.

 

            “I was…” _How can I save this?_ Her eyes lit up when she found the solution. “ _Distracted._ ” Regina articulated every syllable carefully.

 

            “Well,” Emma smiled playfully, “remind me to not be near you when you try to concentrate,” she gloated, pinching Regina’s upper arm.

 

            “Don’t do that!” Regina suddenly tensed up, slipping her shoulder out from underneath Emma’s hand.

 

            “Do what?” Emma retracted her arm reflexively.  “Pinch you?”

 

            “Yes,” Regina replied, sharply exhaling through her nose. She took a couple of seconds to calm herself before allowing a quiet laugh.  “Gloating doesn’t become you, either.”

 

            “I’ll keep that in mind,” Emma agreed, chuckling as well as she placed her hand back onto Regina’s shoulder, lightly rubbing small circles on her skin with her palm.  “Both of those things.”

 

            Regina freed her left arm from behind Emma’s back to grab her remote and turn off the TV, and rotated herself in her seat so she was facing Emma, with her knee pressed lightly against the side of Emma’s denim-clad thigh.  “So… _Saviour_ ,” the smile she flashed as she hissed Emma’s unofficial nickname was venomous, “tell me a story.”

 

            “A story?” Emma echoed blankly.

 

            “I don’t like repeating myself, Swan.”  Regina reached for the long forgotten bottle of shiraz and poured herself another glass.

 

            _What is she up to?_ “That’s debateable… let me just think of something,” Emma leaned her head back, turned towards Regina, with her chin resting on her shoulder.

 

            “ _I know_ ,” she said with finality and shifted upright, turning inward to match Regina’s angle.  “Ever noticed this scar?” She asked, flipping her hair back, and pulling the neckline of her sweater and bra strap off her left shoulder.

 

            Regina leaned forward to get a better look at Emma’s shoulder.  “Can’t say I have…” she trailed off as she looked for a mark.  It took her a moment to recognize the silvery scar tissue against Emma’s pale skin.  It was an array of small pits, most likely puncture wounds, amid a mess of short lines in many directions.

 

            “Well,” Emma began, “it was from back in one of my group houses; I must have been nine or ten?” She guessed.  “And the house’s owner had recently bought a bird.  It was probably… ah, a cockatiel?  I don’t know, I don’t know that much about birds.  Anyway,” her shoulders began to shake from holding back laughter, “the bird was _completely_ skittish, it was brand new to the house, it would dart around its cage a lot, you know?”

 

            Regina offered a vague nod.  She only really came into contact with well-trained delivery birds.

            “So naturally,” Emma continued, “as soon as the owner left the house for… whatever reason, this one kid got the _bright_ idea to let the bird out of the cage.”  Emma looked Regina directly in the eye, to tell her where this story’s going.

 

            Regina responded by raising her eyebrows. “Oh no…” she laughed, reaching for her glass to take a sip of wine.

 

            “And I,” Emma paused to pour herself more wine.   _Damn you, power of suggestion!_ “Thinking I could be some kind of… bird whisperer, took a handful from this bowl of crackers on the coffee table…” at this point, Emma squeezed her eyes shut, her face screwing up like she was about to explode.  Emma waited to regain her composure, took a sip of wine, and then as calmly as she could manage, said, “and crushed it, and then sprinkled it all over my shoulder, so it would _land on me_.”

 

            “Well it looks like it _worked_.” Regina interjected.

 

            “Ssh!” Emma set her glass down on the table, completely unable to keep a straight face.  “That’s true.  It _did_ work.  It landed right on me… and promptly started pecking at my shoulder because…” Emma waved her hands in front of her for emphasis, “ _obviously!_ So I start _freaking_ out: screaming, flailing my arms around, running… absolutely the worst things I could’ve done.”

 

            “So…” Regina guessed, “the bird got scared and started scratching?”

 

            Emma nodded, finally laughing audibly.  “None of us were allowed near the birdcage ever again.”

 

            “I’ll bet,” Regina agreed, sipping on her wine.  “I’m assuming this is _before_ you learned to order birds around?”

 

            “I can’t control _birds_ ,” Emma replied flatly.  “I never could.”

 

            Regina paused for a long moment before setting down her glass. “Oh.”  She assumed that her mother’s affinity for birds might have transferred to her.   _Hell, even_ I _can get birds to do things for me…_ But she held her tongue this time.

 

            “Yeah…” Emma clasped her hands and set them in her lap.  “So, how about you?”

 

            Regina raised an eyebrow.  “What _about_ me?”

           

            “ _Scars_.”   _Obviously_. “I bet the Evil Queen’s got a few… interesting ones.”

 

            Regina grimaced at her old unofficial title.  “Just ‘ _Regina_ ’ is fine.  And honestly?  No, not really.”

 

            Emma tilted her head incredulously.  “I find that hard to believe, I mean I _am_ looking at your face, _right now_.”

 

            Regina’s fingers automatically hovered upwards, resting on the small linear scar on her upper lip.  “You mean this?”

 

            Emma nodded.

 

            Regina lowered her eyes, exhaling audibly.  “... I suppose I could tell you.”  She looked back up to meet Emma’s gaze again.  “It’s not a funny story, though, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

 

            “Alright,” Emma replied, picking up her glass again to sip on her wine.

 

            “I was fifteen,” Regina began, splaying her hands over her knees.  “Did I ever mention a stable boy?  His name was Daniel.”

 

            Emma watched Regina’s expression slowly distance itself from the present moment as she spoke.  “I don’t think you did, no.”

 

            “Well, now you know.”  She didn’t know.  Emma couldn’t know the half of it; she wasn’t _there_.  “I took riding lessons from him,” Regina further explained.  “I’ll admit, horseback riding wasn’t something I took seriously until my mother hired him.” A wry smile stretched its way across her lips.

 

            “Should I be jealous?” Emma teased.

 

            “No, no,” Regina shook her head dismissively.  “He’s dead.”

 

            The bluntness in the way Regina said “dead” caught Emma off guard.   _I should be careful about what I say, I might touch a nerve…_ “I’m sorry,” she offered.

 

            _No she isn’t, she’s just uncomfortable with death._ “Nothing to be sorry for,” Regina assured.  “Anyway…” Regina took a deep breath and continued, “I would make a lot of excuses to schedule lessons with him…”

 

            _It was high afternoon on a hazy summer day.  Regina, fully dressed in her riding gear, strolled from her family’s manor, careful not to slip on the gravel trail, to the stables.  She couldn’t hurry; she knew her mother watched from the windows until she was out of sight.  She also had to conserve her energy, for she’d been sent to bed without dinner last night._

 

_“I’ll be good today.  I’ll eat tonight,” she promised herself as she entered the stables._

 

_“You’re early,” Daniel commented.  He was still preparing the saddle on Regina’s horse.  “You don’t mind waiting a bit, do you?”_

 

_“No,” Regina replied, perhaps a bit too quickly.  She loved that the stable boy wouldn’t bend over backwards for her, just because her parents employed him.  It was honestly condescending how so many common people assumed her to be an impatient brat._

 

_She held her hands behind her back as she watched Daniel work.  Her stomach suddenly growled audibly, and she reflexively covered her abdomen with a closed fist._

 

_“Light lunch?” Daniel joked._

 

_Regina shook her head.  “No, my mother says that ladies must only eat when the sun is down.”  She narrowed her eyes at this.  She didn’t understand why her father got to eat all day long.  She’s caught her mother having afternoon tea before, but she made some excuse about how married women didn’t have to follow such rules.  If this were true, she couldn’t wait to marry, but something held her back from all the suitors her mother presented her with._

 

_Daniel turned to her, a puzzled look crossing his features.  “ ‘S that an upper class thing?”_

 

            Oh no. I said something strange, didn’t I? _“I’m not sure,” Regina dismissed it with a laugh.  “I’m used to it, anyway.”_

 

_“Oh… kay,” Daniel bit his lip and turned back to his work...._

 

            “So you got that while riding?”  Emma broke the trance of Regina’s memory, making her flinch.

            “Ah―?... I did, yes,” Regina admitted, running a hand through her hair.  She was suddenly exhausted.  “I must have been trying to… impress him, or something, because my horse was at a gallop when it happened, and I fell off.”

 

            “I take it he wasn’t impressed,” Emma flatly interjected.

 

            Regina snickered. “No, I can’t imagine he was.”

 

_Truthfully, Regina couldn’t remember how fast the horse had actually been going.  She was so faint; hunger gnawed at her.  It was a monster ripping its way free from her viscera to breathe the fresh summer air.  The sun was too bright… nothing quite seemed real, except the vague sensation of moving forward._

 

_A split second of weightlessness, then air rushing past Regina’s limbs, and then the thud of stone against her body._

 

_Regina lay there, stunned and numb for a couple seconds, before pushing herself up by her hands._

 

_Her palms immediately began to sting.  She winced and covered her face with her fingers, her lungs heaving as a sob fought its way up her throat.  She couldn’t let it out; ladies never show weakness, especially in the public eye.  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, which she wiped away with her fingertips.  When she pulled her hands away, she saw a thick trickle of blood on her palm._

 

_Regina’s eyes widened in mute horror; she instinctively stood.  Her head rushed, and dark grey clouds swam across her vision.  The familiar taste of blood dripped into her mouth, and as she looked down she saw a rock with a small red spot on it where she had fallen._

 

_As the bruise-like spots cleared from her vision, Daniel emerged, running over the hill towards her._

 

_“Damn,” he swore as he examined her face._

 

_Regina frowned, her composure fully regained “What?”  She knew she was bleeding, but from where?_

 

_“Your lip...” Daniel explained “It’s… ah… it’s split.”_

 

_Regina’s brows raised incredulously “Split?!” she reflexively felt for a cut on her lip with her fingertips, wincing as she found it.  “How far?!” she screeched_

 

_“Sorry… I mean…!  No, it’s not split, that’s the wrong word…” Daniel hurriedly tried to appease her.  “Let’s go inside, I’ll take a proper look there.”_

 

_Regina nodded and walked with him.  She could walk, but her hip was a bit sore…_

 

            “So,” Regina concluded back in the present day.  She noticed she had been gesturing with her hands a lot.  Emma’s legs were now crossed, and she couldn’t help but feel like Emma had been studying her face as she talked.  “Daniel said my lip split.  It hadn’t actually _split_ , he was just panicked…  But there was a gash that bled a lot.”  She tapped on the scar with her index finger.

 

            “It didn’t need stitches, but I got this scar, obviously, and a _lot_ of bruises.”  She wished that was all there was to the story.

 

_Regina was sitting down on a hay bale, her back against a wooden beam in the stables.  Daniel cleaned the wound as best he could, and held a clean rag to Regina’s lip.  “You’re in no state to ride, today.  You should go back home.”_

 

_“No!”  Regina was surprised by how forceful her reply was.  “I mean… My mother will see me come in early, find out I got injured, and… she’ll punish you.”  Her eyes were pleading._

 

_“I’ll take the punishment in full; it’s my fault, I should have been watching more carefully.”_

 

_“Don’t.  You don’t understand…” she trailed off.  Regina didn’t entirely understand, herself.  Another growl ripped loudly through her stomach.  She would have smiled sheepishly if it didn’t hurt to stretch her lips._

 

_Daniel took the rag away to examine the flow of blood; the cut was now only forming small beads of blood.  “Look,” he explained, tossing the rag into a bucket of water, “I can hear your hunger, you’re clearly too weak to ride today―”_

 

 _“I am_ not _weak!”  Regina’s eyes flashed and Daniel backed off._

 

_“Okay.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend―”_

 

_“You did,” Regina replied curtly, and sat on her hay bale in silence for a moment._

 

_“Stay there, I’ll be right back,” Daniel instructed, eliciting a roll from Regina’s eyes.  He returned with a red apple in his hand that he used his tunic to polish.  “At least have something.”_

 

_“But my mother―”_

 

_“She doesn’t have to know,” he assured, smiling softly._

 

 _“I can’t,” Regina reasoned, “it will stretch my lip.”  She thought that somehow her mother would just_ know _if she accepted._

 

_“Please, Regina,” Daniel produced a pocket knife, and began to cut a chunk off the apple.  “I can cut it up, but having a student faint from hunger… it’s… sad.”_

 

            I didn’t _faint_! Fainting’s for the weak-willed. _“Just ‘Regina’ is a little_ informal _, don’t you think?”_

 

 _“My apologies,_ Lady _Regina,” Daniel lowered his eyes as he pulled away a chunk of the apple, handing it to her.  “But I insist.  Have this.”_

 

_Regina cautiously plucked the piece of apple from his hand.  She held it a hair’s breadth from her lips for a second that felt like hours, before finally putting it in her mouth.  The sweetness of the fruit mingled with the iron of the blood still in her mouth, but she swallowed regardless, and kept it down._

 

_And then suddenly, the bite sized piece awakened a mania inside her.  She needed the rest of the fruit immediately.  “Give me that,” she seized the apple from Daniel’s hand, making him drop his knife in surprise.  She devoured the apple in a couple of minutes; she didn’t taste much of it, but right now, it was the most delicious thing she’s ever eaten.  The cut in her lip stretched and the juice from the apple made it burn but the burn only increased her frenzy.  Before she knew it, she was biting into the tough core.  Her expression turned to one of disgust as her teeth met the inflexible part of the fruit._

 

_She regained her composure, pinched the stem, and sat the core down on the floor.  “Thank you,” she said.  “You’re not to tell my mother about this, do you understand?”_

 

_Daniel nodded.  “These are meant for the horses, but you may take one if you’re around.”_

 

 _Regina smiled as much as the cut on her lip would allow it._ So, he’s kind as _well_ as handsome.   _He could never be a suitor for her, but perhaps Regina could have a friend for the first time in this abysmal place._

 

_And with that, Regina stayed a while, until the sun dipped lower in the sky, when her lessons typically ended.  As she left, she waved goodbye to Daniel, patted her horse’s neck on her way out, and made her way back to the manor house._

 

_She tried to dash up to her bedchambers as soon as she opened the door, but was immediately stopped when her mother’s clear voice cut across the room._

 

_“In a hurry?”  Cora entered the foyer with her hands on her hips.  “You didn’t think I would see how filthy your riding clothes have become today, did you?”_

 

_With a twirl of her mother’s fingers, Regina’s clothing dissolved from her body in a cloud, and became replaced with a heavy brocade gown and corset.  She stiffened her back, and folded her hands in front of her.  “I was going to change out of them immediately!”_

 

_“Well, now I’ve done that for you,” Cora reasoned.  “Come now, you must be starving.”_

 

_Regina followed her towards the dining room, but Cora stopped in her tracks, turning around to look properly at Regina’s face.  “What happened today, child?”  She traced her fingers over the cut on her lip and the bruise on her chin._

 

_“My horse started running before I could mount,” Regina lied.  “I chased after it, but… I tripped.”  She hoped she could feign an expression shameful enough to be convincing._

 

_Cora’s eyes narrowed.  “Ladies mustn’t run so recklessly if such a face is the result,” she scolded.  “You could have lost a tooth, or broken a nose!  No man of sufficient worth would marry you,” she threatened.  “You will have a scar, I can tell.  I won’t fix it for you.  You need to understand, Regina, that your actions have consequences.  Do not bother coming to dinner, either.”_

 

_With that, she flicked her wrist and Regina’s corset began to tightlace; she gasped for air high in her chest.  She bit hard on the inside of her cheek to prevent tears welling in her eyes.  She could never cry in front of her mother; she’d never give her the satisfaction.  Instead, she stared into her mother’s eyes defiantly, steadying her breath.  “I won’t, mother,” she replied with an eerie calmness._

 

_“Splendid,” Cora replied with a smile as venomous as her voice was cloying.  She pinched the flesh of Regina’s arm as if she were testing the meat on livestock.  “Trust me, you will thank me one day when you’re my age, and won’t need corsets any sturdier than the ones you have now.”  Cora turned on her heel and strode into the dining room, leaving Regina alone in the foyer to seethe in her barely satiated hunger._

 

_With as much dignity as she could muster in the situation, Regina gathered her skirts, and rushed upstairs to her bedchambers, collapsing onto her bed, letting her feather pillow soak up her silent tears._

 

            “Regina?”  Emma’s far away voice emerged from the feathery, restricted haze Regina’s thoughts currently occupied.  She blinked, and suddenly, she was back in her living room, with a glass of wine on the table beside her, and her beautiful girlfriend sitting with her.

 

            She smiled, satisfied.  “Yes, Emma?”

 

            “...Nothing.”  Emma answered.  “You just seemed a bit out of it for a minute, is all.”

 

            “I was,” Regina admitted, “but I’m alright now.”  She rested her hand on top of Emma’s.  “More than alright, actually.”

 

            “Glad to hear it.  You know…” Emma trailed off, bringing her thumb up to trail over the scar on Regina’s lip, “I like this scar,” she smiled, “it gives your face character.”

 

            “Miss Swan,” Regina murmured against Emma’s thumb.  “Are you implying my face is plain without it?”  She raised an eyebrow in mock offense.

 

            “No!  No!  Not at all!” Emma backpedalled, tearing her thumb away until she saw the look in Regina’s eyes.  “Oh.  You’re joking, aren’t you?”

 

            Regina laughed.  “I _am_ capable of doing so, occasionally, yes.”

 

            “Good,” Emma returned her thumb to Regina’s scar.  “I didn’t mean to offend.  Your features are quite strong,” she mused, shifting her thumb to Regina’s chin, and cupping it between her fingers.  “I think they’re very beautiful.”

 

            Before Emma could pull her girlfriend’s chin towards her, Regina closed the gap herself with a long, deep kiss.

 

            Regina was weighing whether to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I know’ after pulling away, but as she did so, she couldn’t help but laugh softly.

 

            “What’s so funny?  Is there cilantro in my teeth?”  Emma closed her lips and probed her tongue over the surface of her teeth, looking for any debris.

 

            “No, nothing like that,”  Regina sighed.  “It’s just that… my lipstick’s smeared on your mouth.”

 

            “It’s smeared on you, _too_!”  Emma countered, trying in vain to wipe away the berry clouds around her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

            “I’m sure it is,” Regina admitted, raising her hands up in defeat.  She remembered something Daniel had said, once.  A few days after her scar healed up, he said he liked the scar, too.  That was back when she hated it.  Daniel promised that if she wanted it to fade, there was a myth that in his village, wounds could heal with a well-meaning kiss.

 

            Regina would decline that particular kiss, only to accept many more from him years later.  She looked into Emma’s eyes as she wondered to herself.   _This scar’s too old to heal and too shallow for it to matter anymore…_

  
            But perhaps this kiss with Emma, and many more to come, could heal something else.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew...! Debut archive post complete! Anyway, I wrote this to give my HC background for Regina's scar, her love of apples, and more of her relationship with Daniel... Plus I just really love SQ, haha. I hope you enjoyed the read!
> 
> Edit: Formatting.


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